Conversations & Admissions
by Annie Blythe
Summary: 2x11 and beyond. Life, love, and police work, as only Sam and Andy know how.
1. Chapter 1

**Thank you to all who reviewed my first story – I'm still learning the nuances of this membership, but I am utterly grateful for the compliments, kindness, and words of encouragement. This next submission is an experiment of sorts. I would like to write a multi-chapter story, but my writing style is more conducive to "reflections," with few lines of character dialogue. Thus, I will be using this story as a practice round, in the hopes of gaining a better handle on dialogue and conversation flow. Please let me know what you think! **

**This scene takes place during 2x11 before Andy returns to the station.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Rookie Blue. I just have an abundant amount of feelings for the characters.**

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><p>"Working the desk. Filing my own paperwork. Booking criminals from dusk til dawn. Losing to Oliver in an arm-wrestling contest. Sitting in a surveillance van with Nash and Jerry, <em>again.<em> Wearing some of Peck's lip color for an afternoon. Punctuating every statement I make with the phrase, _Rock and Roll_."

"Bull."

"What?"

"I call bull shit. Sam, there is no way you would rather adopt one of Epstein's catch phrases than finish this undercover assignment."

"Not even if it meant being with you?"

"That's sweet, but no. You would go crazy in – oh, I don't know – half a day?"

"Interesting. And here I thought the line about Peck 's lip color would give you more cause for concern. Her lips are bright red, you know. Hard to miss."

"Nah, you're too much of a man's man. Chris and Dov would probably start wearing it too, if they thought it was a trend you started. The Swarek edge and all that jazz. Anyway, it's my turn. Give me a category."

"This is a silly game."

"**Give** me a category!"

He chuckled, hazarding a glance at her self-satisfied grin. "Well, I was right about one thing, anyway. Bossy, demanding, insistent… Sweetheart, you really aren't my type. But hey – Gotta break the mold sometime, right?"

"Huh. Well, for what it's worth, I never anticipated falling for a blunt, unyielding_ old man_ with a penchant for bestowing condescending nicknames on co-workers. Ugh, I really don't like the name _sweetheart_," she added, crinkling her nose. "Especially when I hear it on my second day of work – and from another cop, no less!"

"Always with the shot about age, McNally. You wound me."

"Oh, Sam…I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I mean, at your age, your recovery time will take a little longer, right? Have you applied for that AARP card yet?"

"Alright, _alright_, I get it. I'm an old man. Happy? You always have to go right for the jugular, rook."

"I'm not your rookie anymore. And it's only because you have such an attractive neck… and Adam's apple… and collarbone..." She trailed off, her mouth otherwise occupied on his skin.

Sam grinned, his eyes dancing in the dim light of the apartment. "For the record, I know you don't like the name 'sweetheart.' I could see it in your eyes on our first shift together. But I could also see it got you fired up…and I like fired up."

She didn't take her eyes off his shoulder, where she continued to lavish attention, but he could see her jaw tighten, and a few mumbled words broke through his reverie. "YOU like fired up. Always about you, isn't it?"

"What? It's true. I rescind my previous statement: I won't mind if you get a little bossy. 'Watch your step, mind the stairs, follow me…into my room, right now, where I will proceed to blow your mind.'"

She broke away from him, laughing boisterously. "Blow your mind? I'm that good, huh?"

"Well you're with me, and I'm awesome, so by extension, you are awesome."

She sighed, a tiny smile gracing her features. Turning toward him, she propped her elbow underneath her head and looked into his eyes. "Sam…I really do care about you, you know? I wouldn't be here if I wasn't…sure." Pausing, her eyes drifted, and she began to pull at the fibers of the sheet that separated them. In a quieter voice, she finished, "I'm sure."

He tilted her chin towards him, and their eyes met again. All playful teasing had disappeared from his face. He looked at her intently, noting the self-consciousness that lingered in the wake of her admission. Honest and straightforward and vulnerable. A big step – he knew it and she knew it.

The room was silent for a moment. He waited until the tension left her body and then leaned forward, trying to convey with his eyes all that he felt in his heart. Until this moment, his life had been a waiting game. Waiting for the next UC assignment, waiting for a suspect to break, hell, even waiting for Jerry to fold at the poker table. But one "wait" took the cake.

After he saw the ring, he was sure nothing would come of "waiting." It was almost funny how something so small, so unobtrusive, could tighten his chest and clench his heart like an iron fist. She didn't wear it during shift, but seeing her at the Penny was enough. The light seemed to catch every damn sparkle of that ring. And yet he waited. Reluctantly? Sometimes. To his chagrin and disappointment? Often. He waited for a woman whose heart belonged to another man. He waited, more patiently than ever, as she put her life back together when that heart was broken. He waited, and he listened, and he offered a steadying hand. And one day, something bloomed in the dark winter of waiting, and wishing, and wanting - hope. With hope in his heart, he waited for a time when she would reveal the words he suspected had occupied her mind.

What was that saying? Good things come to those who wait? No, that wasn't right. "The best things," his mind corrected, "The _best_ things come to those who wait."

His arms stretched toward her, eyes never leaving hers. She was sure. She was…his. The waiting game was over, and if every game has a winner, by God, he just took the medal.

"I know. And Andy? I'm sure of one thing. I'm sure of us."

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><p><strong>Reviews, suggestions, critical feedback – They are all welcome! Please excuse any grammatical errors, as my tired eyes were the only things to peruse this document.<strong>

**Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Take two! Thank you to all who read, reviewed, and set alerts for this story. As I mentioned in the previous chapter, I will continue writing one-shots with dialogue until I get my feet wet. With any luck, I will begin a multi-chapter story in the near future.**

**This scene takes place after Andy receives Sam's phone call and leaves the Penny.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Rookie Blue… I do own a bad set of Karaoke pipes.**

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><p>"Candace," he said slyly, greeting her with a twinkle in his eye.<p>

"J.D.," she nodded, attempting to conceal an ear-splitting grin, but failing miserably. "Nice wheels."

"Well, it's no truck, but you learn discipline and sacrifice in this trade. You learn to live comfortably with what you have. I'm pretty good at it, too. Except for this one thing that, you know, really matters. I can't, uh… I can't seem to go a week without her," he finished with a wry smile.

"Nice of you to call."

He waited as she fixed her seatbelt, then leaned in to brush his lips briefly against her cheek.

She hummed softly in response, turning to face him. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise." He settled back into the driver's seat, glancing in the rearview mirror before pulling away from the curb. "I wish I could take you for a night on the town, but in the interest of discretion – because we're already breaking eight or nine serious rules – how does a quiet evening in the apartment sound?"

"I like the sound of that very much. Well, actually, I should rephrase. I can't promise that I'll be quiet." She raised her eyebrows in silent challenge.

He growled lightly in response, eyes narrowing on the road ahead.

Feeling the gradual acceleration of the car, Andy giggled inwardly, and then continued. "So what brings you to these parts, anyway? Seems quite the long haul from your neighborhood."

"Oh, the usual," he said offhandedly. "After a late night in the warehouse, I had a hankering for some company. I hopped in the car, started driving, and the next thing I know, boom. I'm two blocks from an infamous cop bar, whistling a pretty tune about the universe 'having a plan.'"

"So it was fate that brought you here? Interesting."

He smiled, shaking his head. His hand sought her mittened one, pulling the glove off before linking their fingers on the center console. And there it was. Despite the rigors of this job, despite the lies, the half-truths, the appearances and facade, in this moment, all he felt was an overwhelming sense of calm.

Andy snuck a glance at the man to her left, then to their joined hands, and felt a warm glow spread through her chest. It wasn't just comfortable, it was… right.

She snuggled more deeply into the cushioned seat and sighed softly.

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><p>Twelve minutes later, Sam pulled onto the drive that marked J.D.'s residence. The ride had been quiet; their thoughts only briefly interrupted by the hum of the radio, crackling in the background. Mourning the loss of the car's heated interior, they quickly stepped out of the SUV into the cover of darkness and hurried to his apartment.<p>

Naturally, part of the UC routine was remaining inconspicuous. Both were careful not to draw attention to themselves, but that didn't stop Sam from reaching for her hand again when they entered the lobby. It certainly didn't stop the beam from enveloping Andy's face. It had been a long time since someone had held her hand like that.

It was funny how the tiniest actions on Sam's part could leave her blissfully happy. Despite two years of working together, there was a _newness_, a sweetness to this facet of their relationship. She couldn't help but relish every swift, sweeping sensation of joy. Handholding sent thrills and tingles through her body. The butterflies had taken permanent residence in her stomach, flying in delighted frenzy. And she couldn't keep a grin off her face, even if she wanted. Granted, she and Sam had skipped around a bit when it came to "normal" couple stages, but her heart was truly - finally - at peace for the first time in months.

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><p>This time, there was a palpable difference when they stepped over the threshold of the apartment. Andy quickly divested of her boots, following Sam to the center of the room as he flipped a switch, turning the gas fireplace on. He fiddled with the thermostat, shrugging off his jacket in the process. After doubling-back to confirm that the door was locked, he let out a breath and approached the brunette standing in his living room.<p>

Sam moved to take Andy's coat, and when her arms were free, he spun her toward the nearest wall. Gently leaning in, he murmured a soft "Hello," and brought his forehead to hers. Using one arm to toss the jacket toward an ottoman, he wrapped his free arm firmly around her back. She tugged him closer, and his nose greeted hers like an old friend.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi. I think we covered that already."

"I'm willing to be redundant if I get a proper greeting every time I see you."

"Proper, huh?"

For a few moments, all was silent in the apartment, save the soft clicking of the refrigerator and the sweet brushing of hands.

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><p>Breathing heavily, the two broke apart, moving to sit on his bed.<p>

Sam recovered first, slipping off his own shoes. "How was your week?"

"Good. I was a little distracted… Spent days in the cruiser, thinking about a certain someone."

"Pining for your former partner, McNally? Riding with Shaw or Diaz didn't do it for you?"

"Hmmm. Despite my fondness for Oliver, somehow I don't think he would take kindly to holding hands on patrol."

"Fair," he nodded, shaking his head in affirmation. "The only thing Oliver will hold on patrol is a gun. Or a sandwich." He paused, eyes crinkling as he observed her slightly disheveled appearance. "I'm sorry to have dragged you away from the Penny tonight."

She brought her arms around his neck, her voiced laced with amusement. "You're not sorry. But that's okay, I'm not either."

"How are the good ol' officers of 15th Division these days?"

"When I left? Very inebriated. And musical."

"What?"

"Tonight was Karaoke Night at the Penny, if you can believe it. You missed a rousing rendition of "Islands in the Stream" from Noelle and Oliver. There's nothing quite like hearing Shaw belt some Kenny Rogers. I wouldn't go so far as to use the word "talented," but the man certainly has a charismatic stage presence."

"I bet."

"And right before you phoned, Traci was taking the lead on Marvin Gaye's 'Let's Get it On.' It was hilarious. For the better part of the night, Gail had been quiet – absolutely refused to participate – and then all of the sudden, she's on stage perfecting her "Teenage Britney" moves. There's a part of me that was sad to miss the conclusion of such a promising performance, but you know, more important things popped up…" she trailed off, realizing his attention was elsewhere. "Sam?"

"What's that? I'm sorry; all I heard was _let's get it on_." He pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck.

"Of course you did," she muttered, attempting to look stern. One look into Sam's eyes, and her resolve crumbled.

"I pride myself on being a gentleman, McNally. I follow directions. If the lady insists…"

He pulled her to her feet, as his hands peeled the sweater away from her body.

"You can give me the details later, Andy, I promise."

"A promise from Sam Swarek? I'm a lucky girl."

"You will be." Tugging his own shirt off, he added, "Take some of Marvin's advice. _And if you feel, like I feel, baby… Then, c'mon_."

"You did not just say that!"

"What? Even we old folks have to keep with the times."

He bent forward, covering her mouth with his before her raucous giggles could escape.

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><p><strong>Thoughts? Suggestions? I am always eager for comments or advice! Thanks bunches.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**This conversation follows the "Maybe twenty?" scene (2x12). **

**Approximately 27 minutes later…**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Rookie Blue. I do own a notebook filled with snippets of RB-driven dialogue.**

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><p>"Wow."<p>

"Yeah."

"It's true what they say. The threat of imminent danger really makes you reevaluate your priorities."

"Well, you went to the trouble of slipping on a robe and slipping off everything else. Wouldn't want to waste your efforts, Candace."

"27 minutes."

"What?"

"My watch is in the bathroom, but according to your clock, it's been 27 minutes. I should probably be on my way. Mortgage to finalize, remember?"

"Right. Are you going to be okay getting back downtown?"

"I'll be fine."

"There's a bus stop two blocks south of here, on the right side of the street. It runs every half-hour or so. A cab just seems too conspicuous at this time of day; I'm sorry."

"Damn. And here I was hoping to borrow the boat…"

He fixed her with a withering glare, clearly not amused.

"I'm kidding!"

He exhaled, shaking his head. "Back to my life as a bad-ass drug smuggler. I might have to hum a chorus of 'All By Myself' after all." Taking note of her expression, he continued. "Hey, don't give me that eyebrow. I said 'hum,' not sing. I thought we cleared this up already."

"I know, I know. You cook, you clean, you're an excellent driver..."

"I would drive you if I could, but in the daylight…"

"No, I get it. It's a little risky to gallivant around town with a cop, gorgeous and charming as she may be."

As she hopped out of his bed and made her way to the bathroom, she heard the low rumble of laughter in his chest. Smiling to herself, she scooped her jeans off the floor and awkwardly thrust one leg in while scrambling for her tank top.

Sam watched her, pressing his lips together to hold back a chuckle. As she bounced on one foot, leaning into the doorframe for balance, he slid out of bed and grabbed his own jeans. Crossing the apartment, he went to help her. Brennan's ill-timed visit was enough. The last thing they needed was a twisted ankle because Andy couldn't get her clothes on.

Frankly, if he had his way, they wouldn't be putting clothes on at all.

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><p>Sliding her tank top over her head, she pushed her arms through and looked at Sam expectantly. He had the good sense to pass her the sweater that was currently sitting on the vanity.<p>

"I'll miss J.D."

"Oh yeah? "

"Yeah. Will you miss Candace?"

He pretended to think about it for a moment, shrugging his shoulders before he said, "Not really."

She punched his arm lightly, pushing him out of the bathroom as she exited. Slinging her coat around her body, she fumbled with the zipper and went in search of her boots. He trailed after her, extending a steady arm so she could pull them on easily.

Thanking him for the proffered limb (the jeans had been a testament to her ongoing battle with coordination), she slid one foot into a boot. It was cute, how helpful he was being, but she wasn't going to let him off the hook for the Candace comment. "Is that any way to talk to a woman you've just spent the better part of the night and morning with?"

He ran his tongue over his lips, before lowering his voice and whispering in her ear. "Hey. I like Candace, I won't deny it. But there's somebody I like better."

She flushed, regaining her footing and leaning into his touch. "Oh yeah? Who would that be?"

Pursing his lips, he mulled over his answer. "Hmm. She's about 5'6", brunette, and looks _really_ good in navy." He paused before continuing. "Insurance is okay, I guess, but I like a woman that packs a little heat."

He twisted his fingers in her hair, drawing her closer. "Badge and a gun? Forget about it. If I could keep a woman like that in my bed all day, I'd die a happy man."

She giggled, tugging him forward and resting her hands behind his neck. Bringing his forehead to hers, she was serious for a moment, searching his face. "No dying anytime soon, got it?"

His eyes flickered to hers, and he nodded slowly.

Her voice dropped to a low murmur as she buried her face in his chest. "Be careful."

Listening to the quiet thumping of Sam's heart, Andy was much calmer than she had been an hour before. This morning could have been a disaster, but they had survived. By the skin of their teeth, perhaps – That's why she shouldn't have been here in the first place. But she couldn't bring herself to regret it. Raising her head, she nudged his nose, a tiny smile gracing her lips when he responded in turn.

On his part, Sam was relieved. Brennan had left the apartment with little fanfare; he seemed to swallow the Candace/J.D. story. At the very least, Sam had bought some time. That much was a weight off his shoulders.

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><p>His mind wandered to earlier that morning, to the conversation interrupted by Brennan's surprise visit. For the first time ever, he admitted how much Andy's presence meant to him. He acknowledged it, <em>out loud<em>. She had a profound effect on his mood, his emotion – more than he had cared to admit in the past. He was slightly awestruck at the implications of this insight. She brought out his protective nature, stirred within him feelings of fear, of valor, of desire – and something more. Something he couldn't put to words, not yet, but something he felt in his heart.

Sam Swarek had said a lot of things to a lot of women, but he had never allowed a woman to penetrate his armored walls so thoroughly. He never had the time, the energy, the courage to permit a woman entrance. No woman – not even Sarah – was privy to his unguarded thoughts, hopes, and private apprehensions.

But something about Andy McNally…

Something about Andy gave him a special kind of bravery. She gave him the courage to say – for the first time in his life – _I'm going to miss you_. It was true. He craved her company, her conversation, her long limbs and loud laugh. Resistance was futile. She was infiltrating his every thought; she lit every nerve-ending in his body on fire. He really was going to miss her, miss _this._

They stood in silence, savoring a moment of peace together.

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><p>Sam was the first to speak.<p>

"Hey. There's more on the line this time around. Somebody waiting on the other side of the fence. You better believe I'm figuring out a way to get home as soon as possible."

"When will that be?"

"I'm not sure. But I'm sure as hell not going to linger around these parts." He reached into her pocket, pulling out her hat. Using both hands, he affixed it to her head and tugged down the sides, grazing her cheek with his thumb. "Bundle up, alright? It's cold out there."

"It's only two blocks."

"It's Toronto. I'd prefer you're not a popsicle the next time I see you."

She released an exaggerated huff before her face lifted, twisting into a knowing smirk. "Don't worry. I plan to be nice and warm the next time I see you."

He leaned in, brushing her lips with a kiss. She pulled him closer, deepening the kiss as she traced his jaw softly with her fingers. _One more stolen moment can't hurt_...

He broke away reluctantly, hazarding a glance at the clock on the wall. "There should be a bus in about 8 minutes."

"And I should probably be on it."

"That's the idea."

He gave her a final, chaste kiss before pulling the door open and slapping her backside playfully.

"Beat it."

He stood for a moment, leaning against the doorjamb, committing her image to memory. An ear-splitting grin lit up her face as she descended the stairs, turning to wave to him before she exited the apartment building.

He sighed. Shutting the door, he began to hunt for his t-shirt before turning the wire and cameras back on.

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><p><strong>Those quick glimpses into Sam's brain are hard to resist. This excerpt was fueled by dialogue, but in the end, I couldn't deny Swarek a little reflection time.<strong>

**As always, thank you so much for reading! Reviews are as thrilling as stolen Sam/Andy moments.**


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